S

Style is that subtle atmosphere pervading literary, artistic and handicraft work that suggests the cultivated personality of the author. It is not a usual nor a clear conception of style to consider the term as applicable to inferior work. The word, as used to designate quality, has come to mean positive and recognizable merit, and generally also that indefinite but powerfully distinctive merit indicating individuality.

The word is used somewhat in this sense, though more broadly, in descriptive art nomenclature, as when the style of a Rubens or of a Titian is spoken of; and in art it often appears that the word is used more commonly to designate a school or a genre of painting, than to point to the work of any particular person of the present or the recent past. Yet it is noted that whenever an artist is able to attract favorable attention through the exercise of talents markedly his own, he is at once credited with a style that is distinctively and peculiarly his. It is quite fair and just therefore to consider that style in printing means that quality of beauty or distinction which is to be directly referred to the printer, rather than those meritorious qualities that owe their existence to careful following of established rules and principles, concerning which all printers have, or may have, a working knowledge. There are some printers whose work is so redolent of a peculiar style as to be recognizable to observing persons; and such work has a quality that may almost be said to be narrow. The possessor of a style pronounced enough to have attracted attention is also usually limited in his range; is, in fact, an exponent of his own peculiar style and is but little else.

Style does not absolutely involve excellence; only a distinctive individuality. That individuality may produce printed work that may be wholly bad, or it may be the hall mark of a supreme excellence. This is the technical meaning of the word. In usage the word style is generally understood to imply excellence, and a high grade and peculiarly distinctive excellence. The derivation of the word is suggestive of the accepted appreciation of its scope. It is the Latin name for an iron pen, but it has come to signify not only the art that wields the pen but it is applied to the whole range of the productive activities of man; to music, painting, architecture, sculpture, dancing, acting, tennis and baseball playing; to burglary and picking of pockets, and to printing.

In printing, style is an element of value, and may be accorded as careful attention as is given to the type outfit, to the presses, or to the employes. We can perhaps think of half a dozen printers who have made great reputations and considerable fortunes through having a style that appealed singularly to purchasers of printed matter. What is there in the work of Mr. De Vinne's press that gives the name a distinct value? Why do publishers announce in their advertisements that certain books are printed by De Vinne? Mr. De Vinne's style is valuable to him and to the publishers who employ him to make books for them.

Probably there is not an intelligent printer who may read this who does not recognize the value of style in printing, and who does not, more or less seriously, struggle to acquire for himself a distinctive style, and chiefly because he knows that the possession of a style that appeals to the buyers of printed matter is almost the only sure means of gaining new clients and holding old ones, and obtaining profit-making prices. While there are many printers who will be inclined to scout the idea that the possession of a style of their own would be of financial advantage to them, it is a fundamental element in success. There needs must be some diggers of ditches, hewers of wood and drawers of water, and it is probably true that the great bulk of printing will continue to be done by workmen, a small proportion of it by artisans, and an almost infinitesimal portion by artists. Nevertheless, there is a gravitation toward the artisan class, and from it to the sparse company of the artist printers.

"The only way," says an acute literary critic, "to get a good style is to think clearly." That is in literature.

In printing, the only way to get a good style is to know thoroughly. Yet it is not all to know. The knowledge must be expressed, and it must be expressed in a manner agreeable to those to whom printed matter is to appeal. They do not always know the point of view of the printer, even if he has a style that is admirable. So his style must, after all, be subordinate to clearness and comprehensibility.

In a piece of printing it is necessary to bring out "the extreme characteristic expression" of the central motive. That is, if the piece of printing is intended to promote the sale of a certain substance or article it is desirable that all the suggestive power residing in the types be brought into play to drive the motive home. This is however a secondary quality of style. The primary quality is that which attracts the eye, and style for the printer may be limited to those qualities that do most attract the eye quickly and agreeably.

The secondary literary constituent of style, which is harmony, takes first rank in printing. The three essentials of printing style may be generalized as knowledge, harmony, and expressiveness. In literature they are thought, expressiveness, and harmony, or melody, as some have it. The greatest of these is, of course, knowledge—knowledge of the fundamentals which go to the making of the best printing.

It is not possible to teach style. It is almost as impossible to acquire style. This seems like a paradox, but a paradox is not always a symbol of hopelessness. Style must be born in a man—style in any art or profession. "Style," a writer has recently said, "is gesture—the gesture of the mind and of the soul." We can eliminate the last clause, and call style in printing the gesture of the mind, the evidence of the amount and degree of knowledge possessed by the mind, tempered, arranged, given distinction, by the born talent, aptitude, or whatever it may be termed, which is the seed germ of style. We do not hesitate to accept the obvious theory that artists are born, not made. Some claim for printing that it is an art. Why then should we hesitate to admit that a printer capable of cultivating and expressing a genuine style must depend upon something other than mere knowledge; something deeper and more subtle than knowledge, which is able to mould knowledge into style?

Style, in the highest sense, is given to but few, and we cannot hope that printers will be more favored, in proportion, than the practitioners of other graphic arts. But they may be as highly favored, if they avail themselves of the opportunities for culture that are open to them, as they are open to other artists, and not otherwise. While it is not to be expected that the printing art will produce Morrises or Bradleys with great profuseness, it is to be frankly admitted that in the grade next below—the grade of talent, that is, as distinguished from the grade of genius—there is not found the high average of attainment among printers that rules in other graphic arts. The reason is as obvious as the fact: Printers are not students, in the sense that painters, etchers, engravers, illustrators, and even photographers, are students. Printers (the progressive ones) have in recent years become close observers and good imitators, but there are few who have attempted to qualify themselves for original work by thorough study of those principles of graphic art that vitally control printing. The artist, in any other line than printing, comes to the practice of his art only after prolonged study and mastery of the principles and the laws governing it. Not so with the printer.

The time has arrived when eminence in printing means much more than good work along existing lines. It means a radical departure and the full recognition of the power and value of art in printing. We have been rather hesitant in accepting this word, art, as applying legitimately to printing, and we have been hesitating merely because we have seen the term so freely and ignorantly applied to work that merited no better name than archaic; to work that, while it usually possessed the common virtues of good mechanical execution, was wholly deficient in those qualities which fairly entitled it to be called artistic. But we must put away this prejudice against an innocent and needed term, and boldly reclaim it from the philistines. We must reinstate in the public mind, and in our own minds, the thing and the name that fittingly describes the thing. We must make art printing mean art printing.

Style should be the goal of the printer who cherishes hopes of distinction or of wealth. We have said that style is born in a man, not acquired by him. This is true, if we consider the highest development of style. But we are all capable of greatly improving our style by study. We cannot improve upon it in any other way. It is almost useless for us to observe the good work of others, for this purpose. We must go beyond that. The first step is to keenly realize the need. We are on a par with every other person who wishes to truly understand any art. We cannot arrive at that understanding by merely wishing it. There is no understanding of art except through study of art.

We may spend a lifetime looking at the great paintings of the world and then know so little about them as to appreciate but a tithe of the rich store of culture and pleasure they hold in reserve for us. We may cultivate a taste for paintings by putting ourselves frequently under their influence, as we may build up a taste for literature by strenuous reading. But knowledge, as distinguished from acquaintance, gives us a very different conception of a painting, or a piece of sculpture, or an example of any form of art, and reveals to us new beauties. So it is in printing. We cannot do good color printing unless we understand color as an artist understands it; we cannot get the best results from a halftone engraving unless we understand tone, light and shade, and values, as an artist understands them. We are not sure of our ground with regard to a page of plain type matter unless we know something conclusive about the fundamentals of art.

We cannot take one pronounced step toward acquiring style until we realize the need, the vital need, of a good foundation knowledge of art—not in a historical sense, but in a technical sense—for the technique of printing that is better than good.

---